


The Scent of Kin

by legendofthesevenstars



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Half-Beastperson!Eries, Naria Lives AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 13:03:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars
Summary: Naria could kill Eries if she wanted. Eries could die if she wanted. Deep down, neither wants to kill or die. Both crave the connection and understanding that can only come with self-recognition in the form of the shared scent of kin.





	The Scent of Kin

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for Yearly Esca's Mar/Apr prompt, "minor characters." I wanted to explore a Naria Lives AU. Also wanted to explore an AU idea of half-beastperson Eries. Decided to combine the two ideas, and this was the result.
> 
>  
> 
> "Suddenly I realize / That if I stepped out of my body I would break / Into blossom." - "A Blessing," James Wright

_You’re not normal,_ Van Fanel’s little cat companion Merle told Eries, scrunching up her face and staring at her, quite impolitely.

 _In what way_? was the question that always came to mind first when people asked her. Was she not normal because she didn’t care whether she was married off to some man in a foreign country, or in Asturia, or married at all? Was she not normal because she wasn’t warm and welcoming like her sisters? Or was it the other thing?

 _You don’t smell like a human_.

The other thing, then. Her hands always went to the cuffs covering her ears, hiding any evidence of the botched grafting job. She knew she smelled funny, but most people wouldn’t notice she was different. Not if she didn’t take off the cuffs.

 _You’re right_ , was all Eries said.

—

 _You’re a good person_ , the stupid brat from the Mystic Moon told Naria, with tears in her eyes like she couldn’t stand to see anyone do anything evil.

Sure, Naria had done a lot of bad things ever since the day she’d met Lord Folken. If only because it was all for his sake. For Eriya’s too. She wasn’t interested in being a “good” person as long as she had Lord Folken to serve.

_Why do you think I care?_

_I know you’re a good person. You and your sister went through a lot of pain. You don’t have to do this! You don’t have to be evil!_

What a silly girl she was. Somehow, looking into those innocent green eyes reminded her of a time when she wasn’t called Naria at all. Running away from her ravaged home and her dead parents with Eriya’s hand in hers. Jumping from the cliff, hopeless. White wings unfurling as he dove to save them.

 _You’re wrong_ , was all Naria said.

—

A leopard woman, one of the two Intensified Luck Soldiers from Zaibach who had laid waste to Palas on Millerna’s wedding day, had been captured a short distance from the harbor. Hitomi had come back safely, albeit a little shaken, with Allen and Gaddes. In the note Allen sent to Eries, Millerna, and Dryden, he explained that Hitomi wanted to vouch for the fate of the prisoner.

“Please don’t hurt Naria,” Hitomi said. “She’s not a bad person. She works for Zaibach because she doesn’t have anything or anyone else.”

“We weren’t going to hurt her. If anything, it’ll be good to keep her around as long as possible,” Dryden said. “She’ll make a prime bargaining chip with Zaibach.”

“She’s not just a bargaining chip,” Hitomi protested. “Her life is seriously in danger. She’s…” her eyes began to water. “She’s going to die!”

Millerna gasped. Next to her, Eries tensed.

Dryden’s confident smirk faded. “She’s really going to die?”

Hitomi nodded. “She had a transfusion, and the new blood that Zaibach put in her is hurting her. Please”—Hitomi wiped her eyes with her finger—“don’t let Naria die. She’s a good person. If we show her kindness, she’ll show us how kind she truly is inside.”

Millerna gave Eries a not-so-discreet look.

Eries turned to Hitomi. “I’ll go down to the dungeon.”

Hitomi clasped her hands. “Oh, thank you so much, Princess Eries!”

In the dungeon, the smells of fear and death mingled in the air. The Zaibach soldier lay on her side on the floor of her cell, so still that Eries wasn’t sure whether she was alive. Her pale, silver complexion seemed to shine in the late afternoon light, and her prominent ears mostly hid her hair from view. Eries noticed Naria’s tail, and her hands went to her own ears.

She walked toward Naria’s cell and knelt in front of it.

“You are in the presence of Asturian royalty. Show your face.”

She lifted her head slowly. Her movements seemed stiff and strained. Eventually, she opened her eyes, and the deep blue was so striking that Eries’ breath hitched. She had a thin, reedy sort of build, but subtly defined muscles were visible beneath her skin. Death and fear aside, she smelled of metal and composting leaves. Evidently, she’d taken Hitomi to the forest.

“You don’t look like a Junin,” she said.

Eries nodded. “I know I do not.”

“But the smell, I’d recognize it anywhere—” She abruptly cried out in agony, clutching her shoulders with her hands, then slumped against the brick wall of the dungeon.

“Tell me about your condition so that I can ensure that you are properly attended to,” Eries offered. She agreed with Hitomi—there was no need to let the woman suffer. And at least an attempt at treatment might be a nice gesture, so that if she did die, they could say they’d at least tried. Dryden was probably right in suspecting that Zaibach would jump at any excuse for revenge.

“I’m an Intensified Luck Soldier. My blood was replaced with Fortune Blood.”

“Fortune Blood?” That would match up with Hitomi’s account of the transfusion. “And it’s going to kill you?”

“Why should it matter to you if I die? I don’t care if _I_ die. After all, my sister’s already dead.”

“Your sister is dead?” No one had mentioned having even seen the other catperson. “How can you be certain?”

“I just know. I have the feeling she’s dead. If she’s gone, if Lord Folken is gone, what reason do I have to stay alive?”

“Lord Folken,” Eries repeated. Of course. She would have served under him. “I haven’t heard any news of his death.”

“Really?” Naria’s eyes lit up. “It would be good to see him one last time before I die…”

“You won’t die. We’ll see if there’s some way to fix this, I assure you.” Eries got to her feet, smoothing down her dress and nodding politely.

“Why are you so eager to help me?”

“Because you and I are alike.”

“I’m not like _you_ ,” Naria snapped. She grunted her pain through gritted teeth, then continued, venom in her voice, “You’re just a half-breed.”

“I’d rather be more like you than more human,” Eries said. “Good day—”

“Naria.”

“Good day, Naria, and we will talk again soon.”

—

“I don’t really know much about Fortune Blood.” Millerna was paging through her childhood anatomy book, the one she’d received as a tenth birthday present, and frowning. “There’s nothing in here or in any of my manuals, not even the one that was an import from Zaibach. It must be new technology.”

“Regardless, not a medically sound procedure,” Eries said.

“Mm-hmm. I don’t know how similar it is to regular blood. And there’s the problem that she’s a beastperson…”

She caught herself: “Oh, that was poorly phrased.”

Eries didn’t outwardly react, but she felt irritation prickle underneath her skin. Being a beastperson was not a _problem_.

“We certainly could try a transfusion,” Millerna continued uncertainly, “but… replacing _all_ the blood in her body?” She turned to Eries, folding her arms, a defiant spark in her violet eyes. “Doctors are already running low on blood in the capital. This is a huge waste of resources that could be going to help _our_ people.”

Eries narrowed her eyes. Millerna recognized that her sister was being selfish instead of selfless. But now wasn’t the time for a lecture on hypocrisy. Millerna wouldn’t understand anyway, not really, how important it was to save Naria. This was probably Eries’ only chance to get to know someone else like her.

“Letting a prisoner of war die would also be a poor show,” Eries countered. “Remember what Lord Dryden said. Bargaining chip with Zaibach. We need any advantage we can get in wartime. And besides, more blood will always be shed.”

Turning away from Eries, Millerna shut her eyes briefly. “That’s so cold,” she said, seeming to shiver as she said the word. “But yet so warmhearted.”

Eries smiled. “It’s just like me, isn’t it?”

—

Naria couldn’t believe her situation. It was so humiliating, and so depressing, to be imprisoned in a vile dungeon while the Fortune Blood wreaked havoc on her already frail frame. She would never see Eriya again. She might never see Lord Folken again. _Might_. The possibility alone kept her going.

Lord Folken had saved her life. In a way, too, that green-eyed brat had saved her life. Her innocence and her good heart. The half-breed who’d come down to see her had a good heart, too. But she was cold, like Naria, as much as Naria hated to admit that. The half-breed claimed to be royalty, but she only talked like royalty. Beastpeople couldn’t be royalty; what kind of _idiot_ did the half-breed take her for?

Still, the half-breed had those steel blue eyes, the long blonde hair. She probably hid her ears underneath those gold coverings. Her Junin smell aside, she smelled like tea, vanilla, and despair, the despair being the strongest note of her scent. Her heart, though pure, was nothing like that wide-eyed girl’s; it was burdened with memories, like Naria’s. Naria wanted to see that half-breed again. Not more than she wanted to see Lord Folken, but she did want to see her.

Footsteps from above. Definitely a human’s scent. Naria sat up, hoping the half-breed might be accompanying her. It was a girl about the same age as the green-eyed brat, with wavy blonde hair, dressed in a navy doctor’s uniform, a couple of women in scrubs following her.

“Hello, Naria,” the girl said in a tone far too cheery for whatever she was about to do. “Call me Doctor Millerna.” Keys jingled at her waist, and she unlocked the cell. She walked over to Naria and looked down at her from where she stood. Millerna smelled strongly of flowers, and she was giving a warm smile that seemed a little fake.

“‘Doctor’?” She bristled, raising her shoulders. Like she needed another medical procedure. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to save your life.”

Oh. So the half-breed was going to follow through with her promise. “You think you can do that?”

Millerna sighed. “Well, I can certainly give it a try. We’re going to extract the Fortune Blood and exchange it with regular blood. This could be a dangerous procedure, especially because I haven’t operated on a beastperson before, but hopefully everything will go all right.”

Of _course_ the girl had never operated on a Junin. She had that look in her eyes that gave Naria all she needed to know. This girl probably had never even _seen_ a beastperson in her life. If she had, she hadn’t ever talked to them. Their physiology wasn’t even that different. It was her loss that she was a human with an inferior sense of smell and hearing.

Naria was escorted to a room where bright lights shone on her and an IV was stuck into her arm. Then she was injected with something, and she fell unconscious. When she woke up from the procedure hours later, the IV site hurt a lot; she wanted to scratch it but knew she shouldn’t. The metallic smell of blood and the honeyed smell of the Fortune Blood lingered in the room. The blinding lamplight had been replaced by the blazing orange early-evening light streaming in the windows. As she came to her senses, she remembered Eriya and Folken, and she suddenly felt very weak. She hadn’t cried since the day their parents were killed, and she wasn’t a crier at all (Eriya had always been the crier), but she thought that maybe she might be able to cry, if her entire body weren’t throbbing with dull pain.

Then the door creaked. Naria caught the scents of tea and vanilla. And the unmistakable smell of kin.

“ _You_ ,” she snarled, raising her head slightly to watch the half-breed walk in.

“How are you feeling?” the half-breed asked, coming to Naria’s bedside and standing over her. “I’m glad to see you made it through the procedure all right. I’m quite proud of my sister.”

“That was your _sister_?” Could two siblings—even half-siblings—be any more different?

“I am a half-breed, aren’t I?”

Naria glared at her. “I still don’t know your name.”

“Eries Aston, second Princess of Asturia,” she said sharply. She was nothing like that cheerful, peppy doctor girl. Far calmer, far more serious. Far more interesting.

“I’m Naria, but you knew that. Well, that was the name Lord Folken gave me. It’s been too long, and I’ve forgotten my childhood name.” She remembered it. She just didn’t want to share it with anyone. That was her and Eriya’s secret.

“You care for Lord Folken greatly.”

“I do. He saved both of our lives. We would have died that day if he had not rescued us. Just as your sister, and that girl from the Mystic Moon, have saved my life.”

“You said you wanted to die.”

“I did.”

“Did? Do you want to live now?”

The Fortune Blood was no longer roiling in Naria’s veins. In a few days, she guessed, it might all return to normal.

“Why didn’t I die right away?” she wondered out loud.

“I prayed that you would live.”

“Why?”

“Because I was being selfish. Good evening, Naria.” Eries stood up quickly and bowed, then walked out of the room, but not before Naria could see the brief embarrassment that flashed across her face.

—

It would have been easy just to tell Naria the truth. It was more likely that Hitomi’s wishing had kept Naria alive; the way Millerna explained it, Hitomi had powers beyond all comprehension. But Eries wanted to believe that her prayers to Jeture had resulted in Naria staying alive. If only to spite what Allen always told her—that it wouldn’t make a difference whether she prayed or not.

She wanted to visit Naria again. It wasn’t because she felt comfortable around her; there was no one she could truly be comfortable around since Mother had died, not Father, not her sisters. Besides, there was something that made her uneasy when she saw Naria, something she didn’t want to tell her. When she was eleven, she’d visited Fanelia with her sisters. She was supposed to be married to Folken in four years. Then the poor fellow had died, then turned up serving the Zaibach Empire.

Now he’d defected from Zaibach and come to Asturia seeking asylum. Once he found out Naria was a prisoner, she became a convenient bargaining chip for him; he could coerce them into keeping her alive in exchange for his aid and intel. Folken was a smart, if stern, individual; she supposed he would have made a good husband and a proper monarch.

She ached to know why Folken was so important to Naria. His arrival in Asturia could set a wall between her and Naria. As soon as she found out Folken was here, as soon as she knew, she wouldn’t care about Eries anymore. She didn’t have any reason to, Eries conceded. Still, she wanted to talk to Naria. If at least to be in her company, in the company of a woman like her.

Four days after the surgery, when dawn had barely broken, Eries came through the door of the room and sat a teapot on the table next to Naria’s bed. Naria was still asleep, the maid who looked after her wasn’t up, and there was even a chance she might have gotten here before Folken, or before Naria heard that Folken was here. Eries pulled up a chair and inspected the room.

The room was stark, white paint peeling off the putrid green brick walls underneath. Just a bed, curtains, and a pathetic hardwood floor, the boards of wood uneven over top of the bricks. Eries had never been to Zaibach, but she couldn’t imagine a room like this was an improvement over Naria’s quarters there. It might be nice to take her outside, let her see some nature. As a rule, Eries didn’t fantasize, but, looking out the window behind Naria’s bed at the vague sunlight outside, she found herself wondering what it might be like, her and Naria standing on a bridge overlooking boats passing on the canals…

“Oh, it’s just you,” came the familiar acrid voice, albeit a tad groggy. Eries turned her attention toward Naria. “You came to see me again.”

“Yes, I’ve come.” Eries bowed her head. “I should hope I was not too early and have not disturbed you.”

“Drop your princess formalities. I smell tea, so pour me a cup.”

Eries smiled and poured them both a cup of tea; at Naria’s request, she put in a single cube of sugar, and the usual four cubes in hers. Eries helped lift her so that she could sit up, and noticed the warmth radiating from her body. Though she smelled like sleep, and she stank because she hadn’t groomed or bathed in days, something about her natural smell was welcoming to Eries in a way that a human’s smell had never been (except for Mother’s, even if she had been Eries’ adoptive mother).

“I’m pleased that your recovery has been so quick,” Eries said after taking a sip of her tea.

“Hopefully I can get out of this bed soon and get a bath.” Naria lifted her teacup to her lips. “I still don’t understand all this kindness you’re showing me.”

“Why don’t you understand it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. What use do I have for it? Why do I deserve it?” The corners of her lips turned down. “If I am really a good person like that girl from the Mystic Moon said, how could I have let my sister die, and keep going on without her?”

“Lord Folken saved your lives. Did you not deserve even that kindness?”

“It was merely in his nature to do things like that. Lord Folken was selfless. He believed in us, so Eriya and I believed in him. We followed him until the end. We didn’t know any other home. We had nowhere else to go. Lord Folken was our salvation. But it doesn’t mean we deserved him.”

“You cared for Lord Folken because he cared for you?”

“We gave everything we could to serve him. How else can you thank someone who saves your life, other than laying your own life at their feet? Now I have no purpose without him and without… Zaibach…” She furrowed her brow, setting her cup of tea on the table delicately, and she glared right into Eries’ eyes with an iciness of which only Eries thought she herself had been capable.

“I still don’t understand why you saved my life, half-breed. Why did you do that? You should have let me die!”

“I couldn’t let someone like me die,” Eries said calmly.

“So, it’s all about you, is it.” Naria’s gaze intensified. “You know how easy it would be to kill you?”

“Tell me how easy it would be, if you’re so confident you can do it.”

“All I would have to do is wrap my hands around your pale royal throat, dig my claws in, and squeeze. I’d put a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t scream for help. How does that sound? Does that sound like a nice way to go out?”

“I suppose it might be better than drowning or falling off a cliff. You go out quite easily, without much of a struggle.”

“Easy?” Naria curled her fingers against the side of the bed. “What makes you say you’ll go out so easy, and not screaming your muffled cries into my hand?”

“Suffocation or smothering doesn’t come with the turbulence of war, nor with the desperation of a natural disaster. It’s just you and one other person. Your death isn’t on display for anyone else; you don’t feel like you have to put on a performance. What I’m saying is that I wouldn’t mind if that were the way I went out. Dying alone in my bed, or someone choking me to death, is preferable to being crushed in rubble because you and your sister couldn’t keep yourselves away from _my_ sister’s wedding.”

Naria growled, her upper lip twitching, and returned to her position leaning back against the bed. “I would have never expected anything like you upon my first meeting with royalty.”

Eries smiled. “Yes, I suppose I’m not typical. Threats against my life don’t frighten me any longer.” Seeing the “why” forming on Naria’s lips, she answered, “Because I know no one will _let_ me die.”

—

Naria chewed on Eries’ words for the next few hours. She could always make someone shudder at the prospect of death; anyone from Zaibach knew the art of wielding the specter of death alongside conventional weapons. But someone who didn’t even fear death? She couldn’t comprehend it. As often as she thought she wanted to die, she knew deep down she didn’t really, actually want to die. Certainly Eriya had never wanted to die either. Not even for Lord Folken’s sake.

The following afternoon, he came. She wanted to jump from her bed and cling to him, but she still felt frail and weak, even if she was improving every day. Aside from that, she couldn’t really feel the joy she wanted to feel, which was kind of odd. Maybe it was because it seemed so different without Eriya here. She kept wanting to look beside herself or beside Lord Folken to see what Eriya was thinking about, what the expression on her face was, but she was met by empty space, and things felt emptier than they had before. Still, Lord Folken was here, and that made her happy. He was the only human whose scent she had become so accustomed to, and liked it, even—the rich, dark odor of musk, the stink of his uniform, and most of all, the smell of metal, especially when he’d just oiled the joints of his arm. He didn’t even have to speak—even just being here, alive and breathing heavy breaths through his nose, was enough.

“I’m relieved to hear your surgery went well,” Folken said, his good arm resting in his lap. He no longer wore his cloak, though a strip of tan cloth hid his right arm.

“I’m so happy to see you again, Lord Folken. I missed you so much.”

He smiled. Then his face fell, and he looked at his lap for a moment. “Naria, about Eriya…”

“I know.”

The room fell still for a moment. Birds chirped outside. Inexplicably, she thought of Eries and of the green-eyed girl.

“I thought she might live, but it was too late. We didn’t have enough time or blood to do a transfusion. Aside from that, the _Vione_ was collapsing. Either I got out of there or I died with her. I didn’t have time to think, so I went with my selfish instinct. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” She couldn’t exactly fault him for watching his own back. “I’m just glad that you’re safe.”

“Thank you.” He folded his hands in his lap, laying his mechanical hand over his good hand. “But I won’t be for long. There’s still some business for me to attend to.”

Naria frowned. “What do you mean? You can’t stay?”

“While Dornkirk lives”—it was the first she had heard him refer to him simply as Dornkirk—“there will be no peace on Gaea. Zaibach was wrong, Naria. I was misguided. I missed out on ten years with my brother because of what I did. And so…” He swallowed. “Soon, I must return to Zaibach and kill Dornkirk. This is my duty. I have no idea if I will come back alive.”

Naria’s eyes widened. Her life up to this point had been a lie. Why had she been fighting, why had she been living, if Lord Folken had always wanted nothing but to desert Zaibach? Was Eries right, that it was better to die alone choking to death or wasting away in a bed than on the fields of war? There was no fear in Lord Folken’s eyes. But she sensed sorrow. Great sorrow.

“I truly wish I could have given you and Eriya a better life. I hope you will continue to go on without me.”

Silence again. The clouds passed over the sun outside. Folken stood up and leaned down, wrapping his good arm around Naria. She nestled into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of warm sweat, his freshly laundered uniform, and the metal of his arm, and, closing her eyes, she remembered the last time she had used her secret name, before she knew the smell of Folken, when all she knew was her own smell and Eriya’s.

—

It had been a week since the war concluded. Folken had not returned to Palas. Celena Schezar had been found alive and well, at least as well as she could be for being kidnapped by Zaibach and subjected to experimentation. Allen returned to his estate and busied himself rehabilitating her while his men began to rebuild Fort Castelo. Millerna was rushing around setting political things in order while Dryden planned his next trip. And Hitomi, and Van and Merle, returned to their respective homelands. That left Eries the only unoccupied one. Relatively unoccupied. Her job was supervising the prisoners from Zaibach.

Naria was still under order of protection from Folken, who had not officially been declared killed in action, and she was thus prioritized. That made Eries happy. She had been visiting Naria regularly since Folken had left Palas, and although she’d been distraught about his departure at first, something about her was different. It was like she had begun to _melt_ , and underneath all that ice, shy crocuses began to sprout, and eventually, bloom, turning toward the light and heat of the sun. Now she smiled and greeted Eries kindly each day. She seemed to recognize that she could rely on and trust Eries. That also made Eries happy.

“It is nice to breathe normal air again,” Naria said. Eries had taken her outside the dungeon for the day, and they stood at the bridge, Eries supporting her underneath her arm. She had been on her feet a lot lately. Her blood had been circulating normally, and according to some cultures Millerna and her assistants had made, there were no traces of Fortune Blood left in her, only normal red blood in her veins.

“I also enjoy this chance to be outside. Even though it’s so hot.” Eries leaned against the bridge slightly, thinking for a moment, thinking of Folken going missing, Allen finding Celena and returning home, Millerna running the country and tearing her hair out over diplomacy, Dryden always standing behind her to advise her… and tear his own hair out. And here she was, still taking care of Naria.

Eries looked over at Naria, watching her as she watched the water rippling in the canal. She looked quite unlike the Zaibach soldier they’d first taken in. At first, Eries had given Naria some of her old dresses, and although her dresses tended to be simpler anyway, Eries hadn’t refused her when she’d asked for something more utilitarian. Now she wore tights with holes for her tail and white collared shirts, the sleeves of which Eries had cut off to accommodate the summer heat. She wasn’t the kind of woman who felt the need to wear jewelry. Eries liked that well enough. There was something beautiful about Naria, her practicality and her rough edges. Hauntingly beautiful, Eries thought, observing the way her silver hair lay on her neck.

“Are you going to stay in Palas?” Eries asked, in a gentler voice than she expected of herself. It sounded like the kind of tone her parents would have used with each other.

“Stay here?” Naria didn’t look up from the water. “I don’t know where else I’m supposed to go. Zaibach was destroyed, after all.”

“That’s right.” Eries lowered her eyes. “Zaibach’s gone.”

“I’ve been here for so long that it feels like it’s so far away. Lord Folken and Eriya were my purpose in life. Without them, I suppose there’s not much left.”

Silence fell between them. Insects buzzed as they passed over the lake. Eries saw a water skater make ripples on the surface of the water in her peripheral vision.

Silently, she made a wish to Jeture, asking Him to let this moment last just a little longer.

“But then,” Naria began, and Eries looked up at her, their eyes meeting, “I remember all the time I’ve spent with you, Eries, and I really wonder if I’ve been dreaming this all up. Finding someone other than Lord Folken who would treat me as kindly as you’ve treated me. I don’t mean to say that you could be a replacement for him, or that you should think of yourself that way. I feel like you understand what it means to have things taken away from you. Am I right in saying so?”

Eries looked at Naria for a moment, the light breeze tossing their hair. Her blue eyes weren’t any less intense than their first meeting, but she seemed so much healthier, so full of energy, not only because her blood was red again.

“My mother is gone, my father is dying, and my older sister died in childbirth,” Eries said. “And one of my closest friends committed an unforgivable sin against my family. I treasure him, but I cannot trust him.” She tightened her grip on the rail of the bridge. “He would never even think of killing me, but he could hurt me again. I know that you could kill me, Naria, but I know that you would never hurt me.”

Naria stared at Eries, her eyes shining, speechless. Their faces were so close, Naria’s smell was so close. All around them, it was deathly quiet. Heat radiated off buildings, making the air dense. Only the water and the slight breeze cooled them. Naria’s arm felt warm entwined with hers. Eries set her hip against the bridge, lifted the hand that was on the railing and cupped Naria’s cheek, meeting her gaze and holding it there.

Naria froze for a moment, stunned by Eries’ sudden advance, and Eries wondered if she’d miscalculated, but then she reached out her right arm, and gripped Eries’ shoulder gently, and kept looking at her like that. They held that pose for just a few minutes, then Eries let go and led her back inside, supporting her with her arm along the way.

—

Eries always had this effect on Naria, making her reconsider everything she took for granted and thought was true. She could kill Eries, but Eries wasn’t afraid of death. She could kill Eries, but she couldn’t hurt her. Couldn’t hurt her. She didn’t understand that. The reason she wouldn’t mind it if she died was because she had lost so much. Wasn’t it? At least, that was what Naria had always assumed was why someone might want to die. She’d wondered if she wanted to die when Eriya was gone. She’d felt like maybe she might want to die when Folken was gone for sure. But then there was Eries. Hadn’t Eries kept her alive, given her a reason to _stay_ alive?

And there was talk of letting her go free. After all that had happened in the war, she was going to be pardoned instead of executed. Even though they’d found out through the King of Fanelia that Lord Folken was dead, and she was thus no longer protected, she would still be spared. Go free? Go where? And what about Eries? It was strange how she’d grown fond of the half-breed, fond of the scents of tea and vanilla when she entered the room, of her stern and icy glares of blue steel, her long silver-blonde hair.

For the next few days, Eries didn’t come down to the dungeon. Because she had been pardoned, Naria lived in better conditions than the other prisoners—in her own room, no less—but she felt for the first time in a while like the prisoner she technically was. She kept thinking of the heat on the day they had been so close, her hand on Eries’ shoulder, Eries’ hand on her cheek. When Eries was here, they didn’t usually talk, because they didn’t have to. More often, it was just sharing tea or just sitting there in each other’s presence. Taking in her smell, watching the sway of her hair when she got up to open the window.

One night, Naria was about to go to bed when Eries came down to her room and slammed the door behind her. Naria’s head shot right up to see that Eries’ hair was somewhat mussed, and dark circles were gathering underneath her eyes.

“Eries?” The day on the bridge was the first day Naria had seen her anything but perfectly composed, but she had never expected to see her like this.

“He’s dying,” she said, and threw herself into her usual seat in the chair next to Naria’s bed, setting her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. “I can’t stand it. My father is dying. I thought I didn’t fear death. Not after losing my mother and my sister, but now…”

Naria didn’t really know what to say. She didn’t like to see Eries so distressed. But what did Eries want? Her father to live? It wasn’t as if that was something Naria could fix. But she wished she could. She wished she could help her.

“I pray every evening, but I swear he’s only getting worse.” Tears were beading in her eyes. “I pray he’s going to get better, but nothing comes of it.”

“You prayed for me when I was sick,” Naria said. “It saved my life. I…” She trailed off. If she had believed that she could pray, could her prayers have saved Eriya and Folken? She still felt the pain of loss. Now that she knew Eries had felt that pain, too, she wanted to stop it from happening again. She understood now. Eries claimed she wanted to die. Naria had claimed she could kill Eries. But there was a difference between killing and dying. Just because you could kill, didn’t mean you wanted to bring about death. Just because you wanted to die, didn’t mean you could find the strength to end yourself.

“I don’t want him to die either,” Naria offered, and reached her hand out to set it on Eries’ shoulder. “He’s your father, your kin. You’ve already lost far too much. No one should have to lose their entire family. Not like I did.”

“Naria, that’s—” Eries’ voice went soft, with a kind of weakness Naria hadn’t anticipated. “That’s so kind of you to say.”

“I may not know how, but I’ll pray for him.”

“My deepest gratitude.”

Eries looked at her lap for a moment. Then her hands went to her gold ear coverings. There was a quiet snap as she unhooked one of the cuffs, revealing a pointed ear with jagged patches of fur on the lobe. The skin was poorly grafted, mutilated almost. She unhooked the other cuff and revealed the same kind of scarring. Naria stared for a moment, and Eries raised her head, meeting her eyes.

This was how Eries was meant to be seen. How she wanted Naria to see her. And she was beautiful.

Naria lifted her hands and touched Eries’ ears more delicately than she’d ever handled anything in her life, feeling the rough, patchy scarring beneath the pads of her fingertips. She gently pushed the mussed-up bangs away from Eries’ eyes, and Eries sat there and held her gaze while Naria held her face in her hands.

“We’re so lonely,” Eries whispered. “Junin are all so lonely. We seek each other somehow.”

“You never even had the chance to live as a beast. You’ve grown up here in the lap of luxury.” You’ve never even killed, Naria thought.

“I know that I don’t know what it’s really like. But I’ve been forced to hide myself, hide my true self all along. Even when I was born, they docked my tail, mutilated my ears, and bestowed a royal name upon me.”

Naria dropped her hands from Eries’ cheeks. “Naria isn’t really my name.”

“What is it?”

What was compelling her to tell Eries this, her secret name that she’d shared only with her sister? Not even Lord Folken knew her secret name. He knew what it was like to be outcast, to be seen as a beast, but he would never understand what it was like to be a beastperson.

“It’s Narunaru.”

Eries lifted her hands to hold Naria’s face. Then she closed her eyes for a moment. She tested out the name: “Narunaru…”

From any stranger’s lips, it might sound like a curse or an insult. But it sat on her tongue in her smooth voice. Naria didn’t know that a word, or anything, could still have the power to make tears come to her eyes.

“Say it again.” Her voice broke, and Eries’ eyes flashed open when she felt a tear on her fingers.

“Narunaru.”

Her name that was a secret. Her time with Eries that was a secret. She couldn’t stop herself now, tears rolling down her cheeks. Eries leaned in until their foreheads touched, and they held onto each other’s shoulders in silence.

—

Her whole life Eries had wondered why she’d turned out the serious one. The stern one. The one who wore blue and green, the one with long silver hair. The one who preferred history, politics, and music, when her sisters had other kinds of interests. The oddball of the family. She could blame it on her being the middle child. She could blame it on her being half-Junin. She could say it was because she had been closer to Father than her sisters.

Father died the day after she visited Naria, even though they had prayed together before she’d left that night. In an act of mercy to ensure his legacy was secured—he had been a good ruler but a calculating one, and wanted to show a kinder side to the public—his final order had been to let the prisoners go free. At last, Naria would be able to leave the dungeon.

The sun was shining brightly. She and Naria were at the edge of the Asturian countryside. She’d left flowers at Father and Mother’s, and Marlene’s, graves and put on her nicest outfit to see Naria off. Palas was no place to shelter a war criminal, and even if Zaibach built itself back up again, her Eriya and her Folken were gone. She was going to travel west to the Chatal Mountains, where she was born, to try and find any kin she might have left. Now that Eries only had Millerna left, Naria had begun thinking about how she’d only had Eriya left and wondered if someone else, some distant relative, was still alive. Eries thought it was a good idea. Her predicament, her pain, had inspired Naria.

“I suppose this is goodbye,” Naria said, hands on her hips.

Eries nodded. She swallowed. “Naria, I…”

Naria smiled. Happiness shone in her deep blue eyes, genuine happiness. “I already know, Eries. Thank you so much. You… you changed my life.”

Eries clutched her heart with both hands. “You changed my life too,” she said, her voice breaking on the last few words. Then she walked forward, into Naria’s arms, and they embraced each other. She was warm, and Eries could sense that she was excited. Confident, happy, excited. She smelled Naria’s happiness on her, and the scent of a beastperson, the scent of kin.

They let go of each other. Eries reached for her ears, her old nervous habit, and her hands rested there for a moment. Then she unfastened the cuffs and offered them to Naria.

“Take these along. I don’t have to keep them on anymore.”

“You’re sure about that?” Naria touched her ears absently. “They won’t fit me.”

Eries shook her head. “No, go on. Take them.”

Naria looked at the cuffs, and then at Eries. She took the cuffs and, shrugging her satchel off of her shoulders, opened it up and put the cuffs inside. She put on her satchel, drew herself up, and smiled.

“Goodbye,” she said, and waved before turning around.

“Farewell.”

Eries watched her walk away, her tail swaying behind her, until she disappeared into the mountains. A sudden breeze chilled Eries’ ears, and she raised her hands and felt the scarring. Then she pushed her hair behind her ears, and slowly lowered her hands until they rested at her sides. She turned her back to the mountains. It was a long walk back to Palas and civilization.


End file.
